


Collective Cyclical Hibernation or Baby, it's cold outside

by hobnobchic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Best Friends, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lando is King, Nerd Rick, No Negan, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Smut, Winter fic, happy tears, sorta phone/wall sex, strong ladies crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6149938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobnobchic/pseuds/hobnobchic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When winter comes the Alexandrians embrace collective napping as the best way to conserve energy and Michonne finds something better than blankets for keeping away the chill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collective Cyclical Hibernation or Baby, it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> Still looking for a beta, but Richonne smut waits for no woman. Or man. 
> 
> Just a little winter ASZ fic that I though might be fun. 
> 
> No Negan, so no mints. But they did get this farming thing down much earlier. Oh, and it's winter time in the makeshift city!
> 
> Sweeter than smuttier.

Michonne curled around a pillow on the bed in her room. The house she, Daryl and Carol shared with the Grimes boys and Judith was new, but the cold still found ways to creep in. 

It was snowing outside. Colder than most of the Georgia crew had ever had to deal with before. The Alexandrians had ways of dealing with the winter, including something called 'Collective Cyclical Hibernation.' In CCH full power only went to the essential buildings; infirmary, school house, cafeteria, and the large office space that the engineers and planners used for spring sustainability prep. All homes had the heat lowered significantly colder by Virginia standards making it freezing for people who had grown up in Georgia sunshine. 

The adults rotated longer down periods in order to conserve energy and better ration food. Down two, up two, small meals on down days, full rations on up days. Carl still went to the small school, now carrying Judith to the day care there as well since no one wanted to ration resources for their growing children unless it was a last resort.

Michonne had been assured that this practice served the Alexandrians well in the past and the rations do seem set to last them well into spring. They all seemed quite chipper about the whole process, which just made her think uncharitably about their work ethics. 

Napping was the, not mandatory, but highly recommended winter past time and didn't that just say everything. It was painful being sidelined like this.

Daryl and Carol were out on patrol and would bring back a small meal for her. Michonne was due to be down for the next two days and she was trying to be a team player, but damnit, trying to be still and quiet in the cold house was starting to freak her out.

She harrumphed as she tried to get more comfortable in bed, the grey sky barely reminding her it was still daytime.

“You don't sound like you're napping in there,” came a voice from the other side of the wall. 

She allowed herself a grin at the sound of the house's other current 'hibernating' occupant. Rick and Carol had just switched shifts and as much as she liked Carol, it was a welcome change to have him here with her now.

“Clearly not all of us nap as well as you,” she called back.  
“Clearly,” said Rick in that low voice he uses when he thinks something is funny and doesn't want to laugh.

She and Rick often had little conversations through the thin walls in their house. Carl and Judy were morning people, a trait that must solely come from their mother judging from the hours Rick keeps. While his now children slept like logs, Rick and Michonne had gotten into a late night routine of sharing bits and pieces from their day as their minds quieted down. Separated by only a thin wall they told each other jokes and stories that wouldn't interest Carl or, actually, anyone other than them. 

She'd forgotten what it was like having a best friend – someone who made everything funnier or more interesting just by being there. Not for the first time, she sent a silent prayer of thanks for finding her Grimes boys. 

She sighed. “It's almost noon. This is so-”  
“Stupid?”  
“I was going to say boring, but yes, stupid works.”  
“Well just lay back and think of Uncle Sam.”

She laughed in earnest at that one.

“You're really laying on the old Grimes charm today.”  
“I'm being helpful, not charming,” came the laughing voice from the other side of the wall.  
“False! You are being neither. It is true that I feel like a bum,” she said.  
“We are bums. Today and tomorrow at least we are. It's our civic duty,” he said, smug bastard.  
“Oh please. You're in there using a candle to work on schedules, aren't you?”  
“... Maybe. You want in on this candle action?”

She laughs.  
“What has it come to that we're sneaking around to do work,” she asked, staring up at the ceiling and playing the fringe of one of the five blankets covering her.  
“Clearly we're bums and rebels,” came Rick's response.  
“Aye aye, Han Solo,” she quipped.  
“Does that make you Leia or Chewy,” said Rick warming to the topic.  
“Ugh. Horrible options. I shouldn't have given you Han.”  
“You be Han. I'll be Lando,” Rick said.  
“YOU want to be Lando Calrissian?”  
“This is just logic. He was the coolest and I am obviously cooler than you.”  
“First: I'm way cooler than you, rebel paperwork doer. Second: Since we're both debating Star Wars I think that makes us both nerds.”  
“What would you rather talk about?”  
“I dunno. What would Lando say?”  
Silence.  
“Michonne, what are you wearing?” came the response, low and grumbly from the other side of the wall.

What the hell? Where did that come from? 

“Um,” she said, still trying to process.  
“That's what Lando would say,” said Rick, slightly more clear now.  
“Oh... Um, your boxers, actually.”  
“What?”  
In for a penny... “I'm answering your question. I'm wearing your boxers.”

As she said the last words, she held her breath. 

Sure she's seen the way he looks at her. A slow path his eyes take up and down her body. It happened so often she wasn't even sure if he realized he was doing it. And he must have caught her sneaking a peak at him in the mornings, when his skin was still damp from his shower and his shirt not yet on.

They'd had an unspoken agreement. Wouldn't put all their eggs in one basket. Couldn't. Not when so much still felt unstable. But things were settling down, weren't they? Rick had made a couple comments leading her to believe he might be ready to move forward and while the comments stopped, he never pulled back seeming to know she needed time. Maybe it the time was now. Maybe?

“Oh,” came the reply at last from Rick. His voice now fainter than before and filled with feigned nonchalance.  
“Yeah... Must have gotten mixed up on laundry day. Hope you don't mind.”  
“No, not at all,” came the hurried reply.

Silence.

“Do they feel good?”  
“Yes. They're soft and warm.”  
“Being clear - just my boxers, nothing else?” he asked and cleared his throat.  
“Should I paint you a picture?” 

What was she doing? Oh, God. Seemingly of its own volition, her hand pulled back the blankets shielding her from the cold air. She moved her hands along the smooth skin of her breasts and played with her hardened nipples before venturing lower, underneath the band of Rick's favorite boxers.

“Tell me.”  
“I was under my blankets, but then you started talking to me and being ridiculous and I started feeling warmer. Hot. Now the cool air feels good, so I'm just laying here, out in the open, thinking about you and touching myself under your boxers...” 

Silence.

She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. She called out to him.  
“Rick?”  
No answer. Had she scared him away? Geez, smart move, Michonne. Even after all they'd been through, she knew Rick Grimes was still as straitlaced as they come about some things. She'd seen the guy bathed in the blood of countless people and walkers, but he still got huffy about table manners. His cowboy traits pop up at the most inconvenient times. Maybe the guy wanted some roses or something?

Well, if he's going to act like a boy scout then - 

Knock. Knock.

Michonne looked at the door in surprise.

“Come in,” she said.  
Rick opened the door, his usual henley sleep shirt missing and his worn winter sleeping pants now working to contain a massive erection he made no attempt at hiding. Huh. Maybe not completely straitlaced after all.

She smiles at him, her long lean legs reaching either side of the full-sized bed as her right hand keeps up the pace working her center, hidden by the shorts. She meets his gaze head on as she cups her breast in her left hand and rolls her nipple in her fingers. Rick's mouth dropped open at some point, apparently not truly expecting such brazen behavior. She felt powerful and sexy under his slack-jawed gaze. 

His hand mindlessly snuck into his pants and worked himself as he watched her. She'd done that to him. That hungry look was going right to her pussy. Her hand wasn't enough. God, she was so wet.

“What if I'd been someone else?”  
“I might have killed you.”  
“You're killing me now.”  
“Rick...”  
“I came to get my boxers back.”  
She smirked.  
“Come take them.”

He goes to her. Kneeling on her bed and crawling towards her, he reaches for her hips and pulls the shorts down her long brown legs and flinging them to the corner, all the while her hand stays busy. Now completely bare before him and at her most vulnerable, she'd never felt so powerful.

“Let me see,” he grumbled, eyes unable to leave the sight of her hand working her pussy.

She spreads herself obscenely, slowing her moves in order to keep the show going. She'll be damned if she comes before she gets on top of this man.

“What you do to me, Michonne,” he rasped.

She groans and laughs at the same time, but is cut off in a huff of surprise as his mouth covers her. She moves her hand and puts her sticky fingers in his hair, pushing his head down and taking some perverse pleasure in marking him with her scent. But then the only pleasure was coming from her pussy as Rick nibbles, licks, and sucks at her. 

Her legs wrap around his head, holding him down and making sure gets as deep as possible, but it's too much. And it's not enough. She rolls them. Now sitting on that fucking handsome face, she began to grind down, back in control. Years of sexual tension making her want to fuck this man into the ground. His stupid stubble and his dumb smile and the ridiculous way he breathes out her name like it's a prayer. Only acceptable option is to fuck this bastard silly. 

Suddenly she feels herself being lifted from underneath. What the hell?

Rick flipped them back over and wedged a pillow under her back so fast she almost wasn't sure what happened.  
“What gives, Grimes”  
Rick looked up at her from between her thighs, hands running up and down her long legs.“I want to see your face. You're so impatient.”  
“Impatient? It's been almost two years!”  
“And who'd fault is that? Let me do this right.”  
“I knew you were a boy scout.”  
He shot her a smile before tenderly kissing her along her left knee to her thighs and dipping to go back to work, slowly and deliberately tasting her. Savoring her. Worshiping her even. She felt... precious. How long had it been since she'd felt that way? Had she ever really felt that way? She almost wanted to cry it was so exquisite. 

Suddenly she wanted to see his face too. Needed to see it.

“Rick... Please,” she said as she tugged a bit more on his hair. He looked up, grinning. Adorable little shit. Then that grin turned wicked and there was nothing adorable about this man. Sexy bastard.

He moved up and claimed her lips in a brutal kiss, apparently having reached his own limits. She gripped him, wanting to feel all of him. She pulled down at his sleep pants – why were they still on? - and he laughed against her mouth as he took them off completely. His cock sprung up, nearly purple in readiness, long and thick and smooth. Beautiful. Are cocks beautiful? Regardless – this was the most beautiful cock she'd ever seen.

“Let me,” she said, surprising herself. She put her hand on him and jerked that perfect cock, causing Rick to his and grit his teeth. She wanted it. Wanted him. But then, had she ever wanted someone as much as she wanted this man? He gripped her wrist with his hand stopping her actions and causing her to whimper.  
He looked at her with wild eyes.  
“Condom?”  
Was he speaking English?  
“Michonne? Please. Condom?”  
Oh.  
“No.”  
“Fuck it.”  
“Yes!”

And he was there, in her, filling her. She gripped him tightly with her legs and arms, needing a moment still to adjust to his size. It had been a long time.

“This what you wanted?” he rumbled, and she shivered at his tone and the fullness of finally having him in her.

He pulled almost completely out and thrust in again. He proceeded to fuck her like he was trying to break her. Touching parts of her she'd forgotten she had. Just when she had his rhythm down, he changed, keeping her frustratingly on edge. His hands helping her work her hips while his mouth sucked and bit at her neck and whispering little words.

“Want you. Always you.” “So fucking tight.” “So beautiful.” “Jesus.” “Only you.” “So long, waited so long.” “No one else, ever.” “Mine.”

At his last words, his brought his hand between them and pressed on her clit, causing her to fall apart in his arms, coming so hard she blacked out for a second. She brought him over the edge making him come inside her, panting and heaving like he'd just run for his life. 

He collapsed on top of her and catching his breath, rolled them over until he was on his back and she was snuggled up to his side. 

“That's one way to keep warm,” Rick said, panting as nuzzled her nose and cheeks giving small soft kisses to the side of her mouth, hands lazily playing with her locs.

She wasn't a cuddler, and didn't it just figure that Rick would be? But being held by him and actually feeling all of him after all this time was doing her in. It wasn't until she tasted salt that she realized she'd somehow started crying. Rick noticed the wetness on her face and began wiping her tears away with his thumbs and kissing the tracks they left, seemingly understanding her weird weepiness wasn't about him. She was never going to live this down. She was so embarrassed, but he was smiling softly at her, letting her know there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Not when she was with him. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms. 

“We could have been doing this a long time ago,” she whispered.  
“We're doing it now,” he said as though that were the simplest thing in the world. 

She felt so stupid. She'd thought they needed time, but for Rick it had always been so simple. He knew all the best and worst parts of her and still wanted her. He'd shown her that decision in every look, every small gift, every moment they shared. So she was late to the party. At least she's here now.

And thanks to the crazy Alexandrians, suddenly time was a luxury they had. She had all winter to get to know the parts of him that were still secret, to find the buttons to push that brought out that wicked smile, to better learn how to love the man she'd already been in love with for almost two years.

And suddenly, it felt like spring.

She looked at him, grinning and sweaty and messy and hers and she grinned back as he kisses her nose and pulls up the blankets to cover their cooling bodies. No wonder the Alexandrians seemed so excited to start this dumb hibernation thing! And then another thought crossed her mind with a start.

No wonder Daryl and Carol wanted to be on the same shift.


End file.
